Kimberley came downstairs last night to see me in sweats with my feet on the coffee table, a half eaten box of pizza in front of me and the Steelers opening-season game on TV."Haha...you're like a guy!" she said.
Sort of. I certainly love sports (although I'm not the obnoxious know-it-all girl who rattles off every stat to impress guy friends) and am just as comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt as a dress and heels.
But I also like pedicures, prefer a nice hotel over camping (although one night in a tent next to a bonfire can be a lot of fun) and can spend a lot of time getting my makeup and hair just right (but spent a week backpacking through Europe this summer without a blowdrier or curling iron!).
If I were a guy, I'd think I was perfect - I'm in my element taking shots with his friends AND hunting through every store at the mall with the girls for a very specific outfit.
So where is he? Where is this guy that knows how amazing I am and can't wait to introduce me to everyone he knows?
Dating is so much harder than I ever thought it would be! Charlotte (Sex & the City) was right when she said even her hair hurts from searching for THE ONE.
